Mock Horror
by literalspoon
Summary: How do you break Yugi Muto? For Pegasus, it's four simple words... (Onyxshipping for Round 4 of the YGO Fanfiction Contest! AU in which Pegasus doesn't die at the end of Duelist Kingdom, and returns after the Final Duel with a deep craving for revenge. Warnings for twerking, a passionate-albeit-vaguely-terrifying-make-out scene, and a few instances of bad language.)


"Thaaaaat's right! It's the very first episode of the show everyone loves! Duel Monsters… _Got Talent!_ "

Yugi dreads to think just how Pegasus managed to get those four atrocious words past the board of directors, let alone what they represent, and going off the horrified look that flickers over Otogi's face, he's similarly worried about the ordeal ahead of them. Battling with the creatures is one thing – an exciting, dynamic affair, with human minds behind every second of the action. But watching a couple of holograms try to dance a tango, or perform some actual magic, or _whatever_ Pegasus decided to program them to do several weeks beforehand, and then judge what's basically a bunch of lame, dead commercials for the card game? Yugi's not entirely sure he'll survive it.

"I know what you're thinking!" Pegasus smiles, and though he can't possibly know the thoughts of everyone in the crowd – here come the air quotes anyway, as slow and as condescending as his voice. "You're thinking ' _Duel Monsters are just numbers on cards!_ ' But let me tell you, that isn't the case in the least! Every Duel Monster in your deck has its very own personality. And in many cases, its own talent! I'm sure you're all as excited as I am to see what surprises might await us tonight!"

The crowd roars at this, or maybe Pegasus just hired some professional bellowers to make their boos sound a little more appealing. Yugi really wouldn't be surprised. Still, as the overly exuberant speaker skips back to his chair, his fellow judge tries to work up some enthusiasm for what's about to go down; after all, if he's in a somewhat positive mindset, then maybe the performance won't be quite so bad. He's grasping at straws here, but for the sake of his sanity, he'll cling to them with all his might. For instance: The organizer seems to be really excited about it, and he's clearly spared no expense. The stage is lit up like a Christmas tree, the desk is custom made, and the oversized buzzer in front of Yugi looks to be made of plated silver. Maybe, just maybe, this whole thing won't be a disaster.

He's not exactly succeeding in following that train of thought _–_ not even Pegasus' charisma could have sold a concept so obviously stillborn – but he's at least doing better than Otogi. The usually calm and collected young CEO has a distinctly resigned look right now. Admittedly that's been his neutral expression for the last few weeks, but he's fidgeting as well, which gives some credit to the idea that he really is bored; yawning every few minutes, tangling his fingers through his hair, the works. He's even turning his chair about to stare emptily into the crowd at increasingly frequent intervals, as though hoping that the obligatory female yowling will somehow wake him up from this nightmare.

 _I don't blame him... Does he even **play** Duel Monsters?_

He guesses that Pegasus only invited Otogi to try and make up for the whole unfortunate Dungeon Dice Monsters affair, a rocky experience from start to finish that had Otogi at Pegasus' constant beck and call for nearly a year. Yugi's no expert on how the older man thinks, but he'd imagine that the thinking went something along the lines of "It's been a whole _month_ , I'm sure he's ready to stop sulking about it!" and that was that. He's also fairly sure that olive branches are supposed to be appealing to the ones they're offered to, but maybe in the world of CEO–on–CEO dominance battles, you can insult someone even when you're trying to make peace to them. They're strange people.

And speaking of strange people: On the far end of the panel, with a more–than–healthy distance between himself and his opponent, is Pegasus, gazing up at the bare stage, leaning forwards, his hands clasped so hard together that they appear to be shaking. The whole scene reminds Yugi of a small child promised that if they sit still and quiet for a few more minutes, then Santa's sleigh will arrive, complete with the man himself, at least five thousand individually giftwrapped presents, all eight traditional reindeer, _and_ the twentieth century abomination with the radioactive nose. Just a few more minutes… just two more… one… twenty, sixteen, twelve, eight, fourthreetwo–

The theatre's lights dim, leaving only the bright, bright stage visible. Pegasus is craning his neck as far up as he can, and Otogi's laid back in his chair with both hands in his lap. Hell, the crowd even holds its breath – or at least, Pegasus' goons hold their breath, and hope that the people around them are psychically encouraged to do the same. The rest of the crowd just goes very quiet – possibly because about half of them are being blinded by the stage, and the other half fell asleep long ago, but at least they're quiet. The point of all this is, something is coming, and even if no–one bar Pegasus is likely to be looking forwards to it, it's something big. Something impressive–

 _Maybe they paid the audience to come here_ , he thinks in that split second between worry and absolute shock–

–and a dragon comes onstage.

However, the place is all jeers and catcalls instead of cheers and applause. Something's wrong, very wrong, and Yugi feels something cold deep in the pit of his stomach. It's Kaiba's precious Blue–Eyes White Dragon, all right, but all dignity the hologram once had has been torn out of it and burned, the ashes scattered across the ocean for good measure. It's wearing a pair of glittering, hot pink, Speedos, and it moves in a wild mockery of the graceful beast the duelist always commandeered. It's like a jerky puppet on a string – it takes a step, then the tail swings hard enough to one side that it loses balance, totters for a few more steps, falls over, rights itself with the aid of a wing, smiles awkwardly at the panel, and resumes wobbling procedures. It can barely walk, let alone _straight_ , and by the time it's gotten to the big, red 'X' in the middle of the stage, Yugi's heart has joined his stomach in demanding a sweater.

 _Pegasus… Why are you doing this?_

"Our first contestant! You look beautiful. What's your name, darling? Oh, and what do you do?" His voice is as carefree as ever, but in Yugi's experience, the more carefree Pegasus seems, the more dangerously in–control he actually is. He gets ready to protest, but the dragon's speaking, and between the high–pitched tone and the simpering language, he's left too shocked to do anything but stare.

"My name is Bluey. A–and I'm a dragon. But I can tw–twerk, I promise–!" She stops short; her voice has broken in the middle of the sentence, a deep, bass growl. She claps both claws over her snout, but the action results in her tipping sideways, and the audience begins to snicker. Otogi lets out a strangled sound, but for now he seems to be holding his ground, or at least clinging to the edge of the desk, his lips moving in a silent prayer.

 _It's just the programming_ , Yugi tells himself over and over. _That isn't Kaiba's Blue–Eyes up on stage. It's just a really bad, moving picture. Not a proper Blue–Eyes White Dragon._ But reason screams otherwise: Isn't the 'real' Blue–Eyes White Dragon just a moving picture, too? That makes it only as valid an interpretation of the card as the ridiculous thing wobbling about before him, lurching from foot to foot. Hell – what if _this_ is what the artist who drew the card's picture had in mind, and Kaiba edited the original hologram to suit his ego? What if in some ancient Egyptian tablet somewhere, there's a picture engraved of an apologetic Blue Eyes White Dragon in hot pink Speedos?

 _Is Kaiba's favourite card a… three–thousand–year–old twerker? Does he know that?_

 _…I hope he never, ever watches this show._

"Well, Bluey, I'm sure all the boys and girls would love to see your performance!" Pegasus crows. "Music, please!"

* * *

It's a long, painful night.

After Yugi has to sit through two disastrous minutes of what can only be described as "tail–waggling to the beat of some kind of butt–anthem", because Pegasus won't push the buzzer on his side of the table, he wants to go home and sob into his pillow. But of course, the master of all things annoying knows better than to stop after just one excruciating performance, and so Duel Monster after Duel Monster comes onstage, each one comically distorted. Yugi's expected to comment on the performances, but as far as he's concerned, there isn't much to say. They're all terrible, just in different ways.

The Two–Headed King Rex performs a ballet that would probably be exquisite, if only both heads didn't want to go in completely opposite directions. The Flame Swordsman explains that his sword has been confiscated and then, having waited five entire seconds for laughter that never arrives, tells his very worst fire jokes. The Red Eyes Black Dragon attempts ventriloquism with a sockpuppet, but his long claws keep shredding the fabric every time he tries to make it look like it's talking. And the mighty Egyptian Gods try to sing some godawful boy–band song about how _that's what makes you beautiful, nananananananananahhhhseriouslyscrewyouguysI'mout_ , at which point the mighty God of the Obelisk goes into a hissy fit on the subject of how much better a leader he is than "that dumb golden child", which ends in one deity slapping another, and all three of them being dragged off stage. Throughout this strange and horrifying interpretation of hell, Yugi and Otogi both stare and cringe and stare and _oh dear god_ – yep, they're cringing all over again.

The audience loves it, of course. Audiences love mockery, they have this almost cult–like mean streak – it's _funny_ to see acts fail, and especially so when they feature some big and impressive creature from the abyss stuffing up something tame, such as juggling a few balls. For them, what Pegasus is doing to these Duel Monsters is the funniest thing they've seen all week. But for Yugi in particular, the whole show is horrifying in its best moments, and downright offensive in its worst. Having seen just how much heart his friends have put into guiding the holograms to fight, watching them now do all manner of mundane things is just depressing. But he can't look away from it just yet. Even though every act has left him feeling as though some part of his heart has been offered to the heavens in sacrifice, Yugi still tenses every time a new contestant takes the stage. You see, Pegasus has left one very, very important group of Duel Monsters out of the auditions thus far. It's not like him to miss an opportunity to insult someone who beat him once upon a nasty day, someone who is now contractually forced to watch every act that drags itself upon the stage. Just thinking about what might be in store next time, or _next time_ , fills Yugi with the sort of fear that leaves him unable to move, staring wide–eyed and slack jawed at–

– _nononononononono **nono n O–**_

–they're here now, and even after so many hours of nightmarish thinking, they're _still_ far worse than he could have ever imagined. There's two of them. On the left is the Dark Magician, a tall, buff, green–skinned, long–haired humanoid. The red–faced owner of the card can see intricate tattoos he never glimpsed before on his very favourite Duel Monster (they swirl around his shoulders, curl in over his hips), since the sorcerer is wearing naught but his trademark hat, a pair of neon purple boxers, and some gaudy plastic roller skates.

 _nonononononononononononononononononono_

The shorter man at his side is more clothed, but that is arguably _worse_. The Dark Magician chose to bare nearly all, but the other man chose to go with far more provoking , teasing stuff. The Magician of Black Chaos wears only a few less belts than his card–game counterpart, but the effect is marked. There's definitely much more skin showing than was on the card, particularly around his middle, and the bright blue of his roller skates only serves to accent his colour. Every time he so much as tilts his pale blue hips, several screams ring out in the audience.

Yugi really hopes that isn't somehow Pegasus's goons' doing, but as usual, there's no way to be sure. With that said – the thought of several burly, suited bodyguards screaming like girls is possibly even more frightening than the two atrocities before him. He's quick to try and dismiss it.

"Hello, hello!" The good CEO is beaming, like all his Christmases have arrived at once. Otogi stares at a point above the sorcerer's heads, and if only he wasn't on camera, poor Yugi would be sinking out of sight for sure. Instead, he just presses his back hard against the chair, holds onto the desk for dear life, and begs silently.

 _Pleaseletthembenotlamepleaseletthembenotlamepleaseplease **please–**_

"Your names, please?"

 _–pleaseletthemnothavelamenamespleaseletthemnothavelamenamespleaseplease **please–**_

"I'm Bobstevegarydude, and this is the Magician of Black Chaos" says the Dark Magician, with a nervous smile. "He, uh, hasn't discovered his true name yet. We're going to keep looking. Right, MBC? I'm sure we'll find it!"

At the reveal of the Dark Magician's "true name", several in the audience break into a surprised sort of laughter. It's a high–pitched, awkward creature, which sounds strange enough that it results in a kind of reactionary snickering from the rest of the crowd. Pegasus makes some attempt to wave them silent, but the 'MBC' shifts his weight, screams join the laughter, which snowballs into more giggling, and so nothing can be said onstage for perhaps one of the most embarrassing two minutes of Yugi's life.

It's a damned good thing that judging desk is nailed into the floor, because the way Otogi's going, he might just have flipped it otherwise. He has been doing his best to appear calm throughout the ordeal, but seeing his friend's Duel Monsters in such a state seems to have rattled him, and the laughter's driven him over the edge at last. He might be shaking, but otherwise he looks furious _–_ angry enough that Yugi babbles a question as soon as the crowd settles down, praying fervently that his friend won't cut in over the top of him.

"What's your talent–?"

He doesn't want to know the answer as soon as it's out of mouth, and yet the hope that his fighting friends _might_ just be a fairly decent show – it's killing him slowly. The Magician of Black Chaos stretches, milking his interest for all it's worth. He even runs a hand over the ever–more–suggestive–seeming horns on his helmet, and several more shrieks ring out, nearly drowning the choked noise of pure anger Otogi manages. The sorcerer only smirks, making a 'be quiet' sort of gesture with the same hand, and doesn't speak until the screams are at least a little more muffled than they were before. "Before we get into all that, could I say something to my favourite owner? He's here tonight."

"Of course!" Pegasus beams, and much to Yugi's surprise, the Duel Monster raises his microphone and stares right at him. Of course, he really should have expected Pegasus to humiliate him openly, but that he's chosen the Magician of Black Chaos to do it is a strange thing, one that catches him off–guard. He shouldn't let himself be weakened before the blue-skinned sorcerer's even opened his mouth; hell, Pegasus probably chose _that_ one to confuse him. But his enemy knows him too well, knows his curiosity all too well, and he can't help but wonder, worry, until his mind's racing into either the sunset or off a rather tall cliff.

 _After all,_ he reasons, trying to make his relationship with a card sound like a calm and logical thing to be considering - _I only used that card once, as a trump card in the final match of Duelist Kingdom. He's what took down Pegasus, sure, but I never summoned him again. The conditions were much too specific to make him of any use in the deck, so why would he be saying I'm his favourite? I've barely used him._

The voice of his own card cuts through his thoughts, in part because the sorcerer happened to hold the microphone a bit close to his face. "Yugi, I… uh, I really want to say thanks? For letting me and Bobstevegarydude stay in the same deck, you know."

He looks away, apparently bashful. The Dark Magician – whose 'true name' Yugi will _never_ use in his narrative voice because good god, that's _silly_ – takes the microphone. "It was only the once, but it was all we needed. I was the wrong way up, he was facedown, and when you merged us with that ritual... Ah, you can imagine the rest." He laughs, shakily; he's starting to lose his composure now, but he swallows and goes on. "We've never come out about it before, but – uh, we're lovebirds n-now. We couldn't be any happier. He's my only one, a-and ever since we fused, I don't think our hearts ever really came apart, y'know?" With that, he throws an arm around his companion, whose face has gone a very interesting shade of purple. "So tonight, n–now I've said it and all, we're going to… gonna… heh… um… w-well, for you… and for us… we're…"

His voice is choked with nerves, tears welling up in his eyes. The crowd coos, but Yugi is far from cooing; openly disgusted by such a fake display. It's even worse than those dreadful edits he's seen done on reality shows that involve actual people – Pegasus has literally forced his beloved monsters, his loyal fighters, his _honor guard_ – to act like they're in love, just so he can have form of drama on later episodes of the show. Nothing about this can be real, nothing at all, but as much as he tries to tell himself this, lies are being shoved down his throat every second he stares at the embracing, shivering sorcerers, lies that are making him question the ones he's fought alongside for years. He resents every second of what he's seeing, but he's powerless to stop it, or the questions his mind automatically puts together.

 _That's not how ritual summoning really works, right?_

 _...Right...?_

He's not alone in this sentiment, either. Otogi's face resembles a cat that has been fed a lemon as part of some sick prank, horror quickly melting into simmering fury. Yugi watches it come to boiling point, and finds himself cheering silently when the one friend he's not yet had to doubt tonight gives into his anger, and begins to speak. It's frightening to watch; he hisses between gritted teeth, and on every full stop there's rather a lot of violence, or at least spittle. "What. Are. You. Going. To. _Do._ "

"W–we're gonna break a record today!" the Magician of Black Chaos says hastily, backing away from the judging panel. "For the longest kiss on roller skates." He wobbles on his skates, and Pegasus quirks a brow.

"Hm. How long have you two been practicing?"

The duo exchange looks, then hang their heads as though they're small and recently scolded children. It's a long way from the upright, confident, coolpose both have always upheld in the past, and all Yugi wants to do is reach out and tell them they'll be okay, but - no, Pegasus is smiling, he _wants_ that to happen, and he's not about to give him the pleasure. Instead, he holds his peace until eventually, one of the duo plucks up enough courage to give a coherent answer: "Three days."

The silver–haired bastard goes to ask another question, but Yugi cuts him off. "Well, good luck. Cue the music."

Pegasus nods, sitting back in his chair, and as some dreadful electronic track with loud howling noises begins, a smile flickers across his opponent's face for the first time in hours. Yes, _yes_ – let these complete mockeries of his friends, these nightmare imitations of everything he's ever known try to kiss each other. Let them do it quickly, come in too close and too fast, fall over, then they can be buzzed and escorted offstage within twenty seconds. It'll be that much less painful than having to sit through seven minutes of Pegasus asking questions, followed by the aforementioned disaster of a performance.

A rather glaring problem wipes the smile off his face: These guys are _good_ , even if going off all the purple sparks, they're cheating _._ They glide about the stage, circling each other, occasionally jumping or zig–zagging. They're graceful, and they definitely know how to skate, teasing the audience with near–misses and impressive leaps. The crowd roars in anticipation, the chorus kicks in, and suddenly out of nowhere they've both whirled and dived for each other, a near–collision and now they're holding hands, skin brushing on leather–

 _ʇɐʞǝ ɯǝ oʌǝɹ'_

–closer, closer. Yugi's watching with a mix of horror and entertainment now. He desperately wants to believe that his dignified cards' true forms are _not_ a guy in Speedos and a stripper who happen to be gay for each other. But what he's looking at is kind of beautiful, in a dreadful, violent, messed up sort of way, and so though he knows he shouldn't be watching, he keeps his hand away from the buzzer, and he stares. The two sorcerers tangle around each other, fingers curled around those ridiculous pointy hats, stroking, fondling, sparks everywhere, _how the hell are they not on fire yet–_

 _ʇɐʞǝ ɯǝ ʇouıƃɥʇ'_

–they lock lips. But then they decide to lock ankles as well, and that goes about as well as you'd expect. Both go down in a great awful heap, roll, fall off the stage–

 _pɹǝɐɯ uo ɯoɹǝ ɐup ןǝɐʌǝ ıʇ ɐןן qǝɥıup_

–a flash of purple fire, and the nightmare's now right in his face, since the pair are making out on the judging desk. The audience screams, and Yugi's own voice is somewhere in that, but neither sorcerer seems to hear. They're lost in the kiss, lost in this horrifying forced relationship, this... _thing..._ that's making their owner desperately want to go home and tear up all his cards. The real ones would never be like this! The real ones, the noble spirits – they'd _never_ do something so out of character, so undignified! Surely, surely, this isn't what Pegasus saw on those stone tablets–

 _ɐɐɐɐʍooooooooooooooooOOOOO_ _OOOOOOOOOOO_

–but what if, _what if_ , and the question's making him ever so sick. He stares down at what he once considered his partners, his friends, and he can feel his faith in the cards slipping, his screams turning into something disgusted. He gets up, lurches forwards, finally snapping, finally so very angry, trying to pull apart two hunks of air that happen to look like flesh and leather–

"Haha! _Broke the record!"_

 _ıʇsɐɟnɔʞıuƃɥoןoƃɹɐɯƃopɟnɔʞıuƃpɐɯɯıʇɥoʍǝxɐɔʇןʎısıʇqɹǝɐʞıuƃɐɹǝɔoɹpıʇɔɐupoɐuʎʇɥıuƃ_

The security team arrives, there's an ill–fated scuffle, and Pegasus's smile is the last thing Yugi remembers.

* * *

It's a week after the Grand Final of _Duel Monsters Got Talent_ went to air, and in order to try and forget all about the card–game–related horror in the first episode that nearly landed him in prison ('indecently touching a hologram' is apparently not a viable charge after all), Yugi Muto is playing a card game. Surprisingly, this tactic doesn't seem to be working very well. Every time he looks at one of the cards, he's reminded of how Gazelle, King of Beasts tried to balance on a ball whilst holding another on his nose, or how the Celtic Guardian attempted to break the world record for smashing forty–five watermelons with his head.

 _They're just cards. That's all._

He sighs, and draws another worthless, characterless piece of paper, waving away Jounouchi's usual pestering ("Are you _sure_ you're all right? Y'really don't look it"). He stares at his hand, focusing on only the numbers and card effects - not those oh-so-painful pictures, searing his mind every time he so much as glances at them, and another unsavoury image pops into his head. He can't think of all the embarrassment Pegasus put him through. The sooner he can stop thinking about it, the faster it'll heal–

–he freezes.

There, smirking up at him, are the two cards with the worst of memories attached: the Dark Magician, and the Magician of Black Chaos. They're right next to each other, and the nightmares resurface. As much as he doesn't _want_ to think about it, Yugi can't help but remember that heartfelt (yet totally fake) speech from the auditions, and that soon leads into this weird merging of the past and present. He stares at those familiar faces, and although he threw away his Duel Disk as soon as he got home from the finals, he's still imagining them coming to life once more, wearing roller skates, holding hands outside of the borders of the cards, then the Magician of Black Chaos leads the act, pulls the Dark Magician close, _and_ –

He wants to scream, but he can't; not in front of Jounouchi, lest he lose his One Unscarred Friend. He does let out something like a whimper, though. Even though none of it is real and none of it ever should be real, it's been branded into his mind, how Pegasus broke his dignity and his sanity with just a few well-placed lines and a short kissing scene. God, all he wants to do is throw down his cards and quit this stupid game, because Pegasus has absolutely ruined it for him. Of course, he _can't_ do that – he might need to save the world again – but this is the closest he's ever been to tearing up what he considers to be the most precious thing in all the world.

He shudders, and gently moves the two cards to opposite ends of his hand.

...Just who put that dumb ritual–summoned spellcaster back in his deck, anyway?


End file.
